The Tooth and Nothing but the Tooth
by Kedavra Lumos
Summary: A future part of Draco's Gift released now for your enjoyment. Lemony goodness.


_I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own rights to the Harry Potter characters. I don't own a signed, autographed copy of War and Peace. I don't own the island of Madagascar. I don't own a gun. I don't own Park Place, but I do have Boardwalk, and if I get a chance for its sister property, you're going down! I don't own an elephant. Nor do I own a kangaroo. I don't own Harry Potter ... oh, wait, I already said that last one._

_**Author's Note:** No, the story isn't dead yet. Life support might not be a bad idea, however. This is another out-of-order chapter, that actually takes place during the Christmas holiday. It was going to be very, very long, but I'm kind of ashamed for how long it has taken me to get anything more posted, so I have decided to break it into two or three chapters. When I reach it in the main story, it will disappear from here, and become perhaps a single, long chapter in the main story, Draco's Gift. For anyone who has stumbled on this, but not on the others, I have another (older) out of order chapter on Minerva and the Weasley twins, and another connected story with Harry and DC Comic's Catwoman. Look them up if you like._

**The Tooth and Nothing But the Tooth**

Emma Granger stood in her bedroom, naked and confused. She had been confused many times since learning that her daughter was a witch, part of a secret world which Emma could never seem to learn enough about, but this was the first time her daughter had ever told her it was vitally important that she be naked as well as confused. While she might have referred to her sex life as magical in the past, Emma would never have expected to be looking toward the magical world to _save_ said sex life, and perhaps her marriage.

But things had been less than idyllic in the Granger bedroom for the past couple of years, and the non-magical world didn't seem to have a solution. Emma still loved her husband, and she knew he still loved her, but her body had been going through some changes recently, and they weren't behaving quite as they were supposed to. Emma had found her sex drive dropping through the floor. Previously a very passionate woman, Emma found herself with less and less interest in sex. In fact, she could barely tolerate sexual contact.

Her husband, Dan, claimed that it made no difference to him, but she knew it was not true. They'd always had an excellent love life, and she could see the pain which her lack of interest caused her husband. For his sake, she tried, but what had been pleasant and lovely now felt painful and abhorrent. She'd seen doctors and even specialists, and tried several courses of treatment, but none worked for her. It was not unheard of ... different people reacted to different drugs in different manners. And for some reason it seemed to be a lot easier to find drugs that would work for almost everybody in the male population than it was to find something that would work for everybody among the female population.

After a year-and-a-half of a variety of medicines, supplements and treatments that did not work, Emma had come to two conclusions. The first was that there didn't seem to be any treatment out there which would work with her body chemistry. The second was that the whole situation was not fair to her loving husband. She had discussed the matter with him, and though he objected strongly, she had been leaning more and more toward a divorce to free him to find somebody new. Somebody that could provide him with what she no longer could.

It was the beginning of November when she'd first brought up the issue with her magical daughter in a letter. Hermione had been most distraught to realize her mother was contemplating a divorce. The child had been furious with her father at first, assuming that the decision was, in some manner, his. Emma had refuted that idea very strongly in her next letter. Thankfully mother and daughter had a very strong relationship, and were not afraid to discuss sex openly, at least in the abstract. She explained the problem to her daughter, and made it clear it was she that was pushing for this decision, and not Dan.

Apprised of the cause of the situation, Hermione had requested that her mum hold off on making any final decisions. Her daughter was convinced there was a magical solution to the problem, and promised that she would resolve the issue come Christmas break. To be honest, Emma no longer held out much hope, but for her husband and her daughter's sake, she had agreed to try Hermione's solution.

Yet she couldn't help but wonder about Hermione. She spoke almost in terms of a sort of ritual, but she refused to discuss the details of what was required. Yet she was very specific about other requirements. Her father could not be there. She and her mum needed some time alone for this to work. She forbade her mother to even mention the possibility of a magical solution to her father. Yet when Emma wanted to meet her daughter at the train station, Hermione refused. She would stay in a hotel overnight, she insisted, and would meet her mother at the house the following afternoon, while her father was at work.

Hogwarts had let out for holiday yesterday, and it was this afternoon, just a few minutes previous, when her daughter had arrived home, greeted her with a hug, and insisted they take their conversation to the master bedroom. Emma had been virtually browbeaten into removing her clothes, and stood before her daughter naked, as Hermione removed a few supplies from her book bag, placing them on the nightstand. The two main items were a small vial of liquid and her wand. Now Hermione stood there, inspecting her in a manner which, quite frankly, made her slightly uncomfortable!

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Hermione stared at her mother in amazement. She had always considered her mother to be beautiful, but knew a good portion of that might be nothing more than her love for the woman who raised her. In the past four months, Hermione had seen several dozen women naked, and had been intimate with a great number of them. Few of them came close to matching the beauty of her mother. Emma Granger was 37 years old, and in excellent shape. Her figure was not as slim as the current unhealthy vogue, but she had little fat. Her curves were shapely and inviting, her face was undeniably attractive. Her hair was brunette, a shade quite close to Hermione's own, but while Hermione considered her hair to be rather ratty and hard to control, her mum's hair was bouncy and full. Studying the full C cup breasts that had not yet really begun to noticeably sag, Hermione found herself beginning to feel slightly jealous. She was certain that Harry would greatly enjoy the afternoon.

It seemed the situation was getting to her mother, as the older woman snapped at her. "Hermione, I am not a piece of meat! Will you please stop staring at me? You're making me uncomfortable."

"Sorry, mother," Hermione replied. "I suppose we'd better get started. First I need to warn you, there will be some pain involved. It may be fairly strong, but it should last for less than five minutes. Do you think you can handle that?"

"I've given birth," Emma reminder her. "I think I can handle five minutes of virtually any sort of pain there is."

"It may be a little distressing," Hermione added, "but I'll be right here with you the entire time. First, you'll need to drink this vial." She proffered the small, stoppered tube. "Try to drink it all in one go ... it won't be pleasant. Magic potions are not known for their pleasant tastes."

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As the older beauty removed the stopper and threw back the contents, she grimaced. "You aren't kidding about the taste, are you?" As Emma turned to look for something to wash away the taste, she found her daughter's wand pointing directly at her. Hermione snapped off a quick incantation, and there was a small flash of light, and Emma Granger was startled to feel a bit of a flush through her sex, as the natural lubrication that had all but vanished over the last two years suddenly began to flow more strongly than she could ever remember it flowing before. She was more startled to see her daughter standing there, wand in hand.

"Hermione Granger! What about the ..." her mind raced, looking for the term, "... the Restriction on Underaged Magic? I know you want to help me, but getting yourself in trouble with the Ministry of Magic is not the way to do it!"

"The Restriction is not currently an issue, mum," her daughter replied. "You'll understand in a few minutes."

"Oh? In that case, what was that potion you had me drink? What was that spell?"

"The spell was a heavy-duty lubrication charm. The potion was a strong lust potion."

"Lust potion?"

Hermione stared pointedly at her mother's crotch, and Emma glanced down to find her fingers gently rubbing at her flower. She hadn't even realized she was doing so, and her fingers were dripping wet. Her face began to flush. She glanced up at her daughter, and saw Hermione still staring at her active fingers. All unknowing, the tip of Hermione's tongue briefly moistened her lips, and Emma's flush began to extend down her neck and along her shoulders. She felt a greatly missed sensation spreading throughout her body as the lust potion worked its magic. Her eyes drifted shut and she let out a moan as her fingers increased their pace.

"Looks like that potion has kicked in pretty well," Hermione said. Emma could hear the smile on her daughter's face. "You look like you're getting rather randy." Emma only moaned and continued her frantic motions. Suddenly, though, she heard the bedroom door swing wide. Her eyes flashed open, to see her daughter standing with her hand on the door knob, the door to the hall standing open.

"I think you are ready to meet my fiance." Hermione said. "Harry!" she called out.

Emma's mouth dropped open in shock. "N ... N ... Not a good time," she stammered.

A male voice came from down the hall. "Are you sure about this, Hermione?"

"Trust me, Harry," Hermione replied, while at the same time, Emma called out "No!" But she heard light footsteps coming down the hall. Emma tried to cover herself with her hands, but she couldn't seem to stop the fingers of her right hand as they continued to frantically finger her pussy. And as her left hand rose to cover her breasts, her fingers couldn't seem to help but play with the nipple on her right breast. Her flush continued to spread.

She spotted a figure in the door. Her mind instantly took in a few details, slim; nude; male (very, very male); short, dark, unruly hair. Her mouth seemed to lag behind her mind, as she heard herself say "Fiance?" Then her eyes caught in the gaze of his. Emerald orbs were filled with an anger and hatred that had fear warring with the lust flooding her body. It was a very confusing sensation.

He moved quickly; so incredibly quickly. Two steps, his hand flashing through the air as he drew nearer, and he gave her a great shove. Her legs hit the back of the bed, and she flopped down on her back before she'd barely realized she was moving, and then he was on her. She felt heat against her own heat, and her eyes bulged as she felt him press his cock against her dripping center. Her lips spread as he pushed forward, and kept spreading wider and wider. A number floated through her mind, 'fifteen,' followed by the further thought, 'impossible.' Pain and disbelief as he pushed forward in one impossibly long, painful stroke that she was certain filled her and stretched her more than she'd ever felt before. He grunted and pulled back several inches, then slammed forward again with all his weight. Terror! Another stroke, and the sound of his balls bouncing against her flesh. Lust! Another. Confusion! She could feel his weight, it was not all that heavy. She had at least a vague impression of his size from him standing in the doorway, and she knew her daughter had told her Harry was only fifteen. Fifteen, and still a bit small for his age. How could he possibly be so large when he was so small?

Another thrust, another smack as his balls bounced off her ... her daughter wrapping her arms around his shoulder and whispering in his ear ... thrust, smack! Emma gasped out a confused sound, half terror, half lust. Thrust, smack! Thrust, smack! She could feel her vagina tearing, skin being stretched beyond what it could handle. Thrust, smack! Thrust, smack! The pain hurt so bad! Thrust, smack! Thrust, smack! It hurt so _good_. Thrust, smack! Thrust, smack! She wrenched her eyes away from the burning green orbs that glared at her with hate, just to catch her daughter's eyes, gazing at her with love and excitement. Those eyes held her for what seemed like hours, before the figure slamming against her gave a loud grunt, and she felt his huge cock jerk and pulse and shoot his load against the walls of her battered sex. And then there was a strong pulse of magic that flooded through her, and her mind lost all focus as her eyes glazed over.

Emma Granger experienced the memories of one Harry James Potter. His tortured youth, his joyous introduction to magic, the horrors he'd had to face within the magical world, and all the things her daughter had gone through with him that she'd never told her parents about. She saw the curse that had hit him, the rape of her daughter, and the complete love and devotion he had (and showed) for her afterward. She saw Hermione's part in coming up with ways to lessen the impact of the curse, including those that had just been used on her. And with all she had seen, she could not help but love this man-child that was to become her son-in-law.

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Harry had, by this point, 'lived' through the lives of a wide variety of women. And pretty much each and every one held some major surprises. Some were horrible, pain and suffering the women had been forced to endure, others were joyous and wonderfully unexpected. Emma Granger was no surprise in many ways. There was much he felt he knew about Emma simply through what he knew of her daughter. But there was a side to Emma that Harry never would have suspected. He was certain that Hermione had no clue, either. "Well, at least I know where Hermione gets it," he thought to himself. Expected and unexpected, Harry saw nothing he could not accept, understand, and love. The mother of his fiance was a woman that Harry could deeply care for, and oh, how he looked forward to getting to know her better!

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Emma Granger slowly came back to herself, a slight grin on her face as she felt an immense cock filling her with long, slow strokes. She lifted heavy eye lids with some effort and looked up into a gorgeous pair of brilliant, intense emerald eyes. She couldn't help the low moan which slipped out as she gazed up at the lithe figure above her. She could see warmth and an incredible lust in Harry's eyes as his gaze roamed her body. "Beautiful," he mumbled as he continued his gentle thrusts. When she could finally tear her eyes away from his, Emma glanced around the room. She still lay, legs spread, on her bed right where she had fallen, but while she was experiencing Harry's memories, her daughter had removed her clothes, and was now sitting in a chair, watching them. Hermione had her fingers stroking her pussy, just like Emma had found herself doing earlier. Her eyes returned to the man-god above her as her hands reached up to lightly grasp his hips, drawing him deeper into her as she wrapped her legs around him.

As she urged him on, Harry thrust ever deeper, and slowly increased his speed. She'd seen his experience with so many of the girls and women at Hogwarts, and wasn't surprised that with so much experience, he'd really learned what he was doing. As she rapidly built toward an orgasm, her gasps and moans mingled with his own. She found herself pleading, "Harder, Harry ... faster," and he allowed himself to be guided by her. He continued to stretch her in marvelous ways, but no pain remained from their earlier coupling. Obviously her daughter had cast some healing spells while Emma experienced Harry's past. It took very little time for the marvelous friction of Harry's thick eight 3/4 inches to push her to her first orgasm, and as she climaxed around him, she could see the pleasure in his eyes. He slowed his strokes as she rode out the last few shudders of her release, then leaned forward to kiss her. She couldn't help herself as she opened her mouth to him, and shared a quick caress of tongues.

There was no doubt, no hesitation. Harry had pleasured at least eighty women (not even he could keep perfect track anymore) over the last six months, from school girls that were too young (though after their first experience with Harry, not one of them would admit so) to experienced women that shocked Harry with their forwardness, inventiveness and insatiability for carnal pleasures. It would be impossible for Harry to be a poor lover with all his experience and knowledge; but it was his determination to give and receive pleasure in _equal_ amounts, his understanding that each woman was slightly different, and would have techniques that, while somewhat ineffective on others, would send the right woman into fits of ecstasy, his willingness to try anything and everything and then to concentrate on those things that seemed to work the best ... it was for these reasons that Emma had to happily admit her daughter had it right: Harry was a green-eyed Sex God!

She actually felt slightly guilty as she admitted to herself that Harry surpassed Dan's skill as a lover. Not too guilty; she somehow knew that her relationship with Dan would only grow stronger. He was her lover, her husband, her partner, and she was now convinced they really would be together as long as they both lived. Dan was still the second greatest lover she'd ever seen, and he'd come by it honestly. No magical powers that changed everything in an instant, no mystical mind-melds that provided an unfair advantage eighty times over. Harry gazed at her, and the lust, desire, and, yes, love, in his eyes was like a bonfire, filling her with warmth and lust. But then his gaze drifted over to her daughter, and she knew the forest fire of desire that raged through his eyes would have been enough to destroy her if it were turned on her. Hermione would always come first to him, just as Dan would always be first for her. But oh, the fun they would have, in the meantime.

And speaking of fun ...

"Hermione Jean Granger!" She fiercely called. Hermione cringed, but Harry caught the wicked look in Emma's eyes, and only smirked.

"I ... I ... I'm sorry," Hermione stuttered back. "I know I'm young, too young, you might think. But if you really consider the things you've just learned ..." Her mother just continued to glare.

"And I know it must seem like I've been sl ... sleeping with a lot of people, but if you ... if you ..."

The glare continued. "I don't want everybody angry with ... and it wouldn't be fair for ... if you consider all the ..." No change.

"I'm sorry if I am a disappointment to you, but through no fault of our own, our lives will never be what you might call normal," she finally muttered defiantly. But she focused on the floor as she awaited her mother's horrible reaction.

"Hermione." Harry spoke quietly. Hermione glanced at him, and ... was the prat smiling? Was that a smirk on his face? "Hermione, whatever your mother is on to you about, I am almost certain it is _not_ our sexual situations." Her face was a picture of confusion. "Your mum and dad were swingers, Hermione. They might not have quite matched us, but it wasn't for lack of trying. The only reason they ever stopped was fear for how public reaction to their lifestyle might have negatively impacted you! Before August, you would have been shocked at the things your parents had gotten up to when they were younger."

"But then ... what ...?"

"Trolls? Basilisks? Dementors? And a bloody Cerberus? Not to mention rat-bastards like that Malfoy? Were you ever going to tell us _anything_ about what you've had to deal with at that school?"

"Oh." Hermione blushed.

"And let me be very, very clear on one other matter," Emma Granger thundered. "I don't care if you bonk a fashion model, a farm animal, or the entire starting line-up of Manchester United! You could _never_ be a disappointment to me! Though if you were eager to include that git Ronald Weasley, I _might_ start to question your taste!"

Harry snorted, and Hermione flew into Emma's arms, tears flowing down her face. "I thought ... I thought ..." she blubbered incoherently as two sets of arms wrapped around her.

"Hermione," Emma gently entreated her, "I just lived through every moment of Harry's life. I am shocked and horrified at many of the things you've had to deal with, and more proud of how you've handled most of them than I could ever find words to express. Harry has been with you almost every step of the way. And while there are a couple of moments I would like to box his ears for, seeing everything in that amount of detail has made understanding and acceptance fairly easy. In addition, the only reason I have the opportunity to understand this at all is that you consented to share your boyfriend with me, to save my marriage. It wouldn't be reasonable to blame you for that same willingness to share, would it?" She smirked at her daughter. "But you get to explain all this to your father."

"I will," Hermione agreed, slowly. "Eventually."

Emma chuckled, then drew Harry closer. "Meanwhile, it's been nearly a year. I'm going to need more than two orgasms, Mister Potter." She kissed him, and then melted against him as he wrapped his arms around her hips and crushed her against him, grinding his ever-present erection against her. Either that lust potion had a lengthy half-life, or Harry's permanent effect on her was quite powerful. Either way, Dan was in for a pleasant, if tiring surprise when he made it home from work.

_**Authors Note:** I will try and have the next chapter of this part up in weeks, rather than months. For those of you still reading, I hope you are also still enjoying._


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